


a hundred percent reason to remember the name

by Lizzen



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Kidnapping, Non-Linear Narrative, Surprise Guests - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-16 07:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12338151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzen/pseuds/Lizzen
Summary: A war game begins between titans with Lena caught in the crossfire.Lena squares her stance and stares at the camera trained on her cell. “You’ve fucked with the wrong Luthor.” And the words seem like ash in her mouth. Lex would likely be out by now, Lillian even earlier than that. She’s the runt of the litter, the bastard Luthor. Not deserving of the family name. She raises her chin anyway. “You’re going to regret this.”





	a hundred percent reason to remember the name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ifyouresure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifyouresure/gifts).



> A Femslashex_2017 treat for Ifyouresure

**AT SIX WEEKS**

It’s a female guard today, brushing her gloved hand against the bars after delivering the tray of food. “Still expecting a rescue?,” she says; no emotion, an honest question. The others are less kind when they ask. 

Lena sits up straighter on her pallet of a bed. Breathes in slowly. “She’s coming.” And she believes it. Still believes it.

The guard smiles. “Good. We need a little excitement around here.”

 

 

 

**AT ONE WEEK**

Lena squares her stance and stares at the camera trained on her cell. “You’ve fucked with the wrong Luthor.” And the words seem like ash in her mouth. Lex would likely be out by now, Lillian even earlier than that. She’s the runt of the litter, the bastard Luthor. Not deserving of the family name. 

She raises her chin anyway. “You’re going to regret this.”

Nothing happens, not even a blink to the red light.

 

 

 

**AT TWO MONTHS**

A guard casually mentions that Supergirl is missing too. “We don’t have her,” he says when Lena’s eyebrows raise. “He doesn’t have use for her under lock and key.”

“That’s what he has me for,” Lena says. “He wants her dead.”

He shrugs. “Whatever the boss wants, he usually gets.”

“He’s going to have to get used to disappointment.”

 

 

 

**BEFORE**

“You know,” Lena says. “Eventually I’m going to find out who you are when you’re not--” and she gestures at Supergirl with a smile. “I don’t think you sleep every night in the fortress with your cousin.”

Supergirl smiles back. And it’s on the verge of flirtation, in Lena’s estimation: “You think about where I sleep?”

And Lena feels just a little caught; maybe the flirtation is hers. “I think about--”

“You think about me?” Supergirl continues. “I’m flattered.”

The body betrays, she feels her cheeks growing pink. But still, she leans in. “I’m a Luthor, I’m relentless in getting what I want.”

Supergirl leans in herself. And their faces are so close, it could easily be something else. But on her lips is: “I’m not easy to know, not like this.”

“Let me try,” are the words spilling out of Lena’s mouth before she can stop them. 

The answer is Supergirl pulling back, pulling away. The answer is Supergirl giving her the saddest of smiles. The answer is Supergirl raising her first in the air and flying away. 

She feels the absence immediately. But then she remembers: _I’m safe_ , she texts Kara quickly. _Supergirl of course is responsible for that. Again._ And in a few minutes, the response is a red heart emoji, and there's a fond feeling thudding in her chest. 

 

 

 

**AT DAY TWO**

Her rage is duller today, less blinding. She can focus on the room and its features. Large enough to pace in. A small bed, if you could call it that, and a chest of drawers with sets of yoga pants and soft shirts. Underwear. A desk with paper and pen. A few books she’s never read. A toilet and sink behind a privacy screen. Elegant toiletries. Three walls and a set of bars. A slot for a food tray.

A camera trained on the room with a solid red light to indicate its power.

No windows, no clocks.

A mostly silent guard who brings food twice a day. The meals are delicious, as if a chef was assigned in the neighboring rooms. A strange kindness. 

She stares up at the white ceiling and knows she’s meant to be here for a while; kept in some comfort. 

_I’m a Luthor_ , she thinks. _We can survive worse conditions._ And something like steel begins to grow in her bones, and her hands fist so tight. 

 

 

 

**WHEN IT HAPPENS**

Her champagne tastes sweeter than normal and she places it down on a silver tray, hears the whisper of her silk skirts as she moves. Another gala, another drama, another growing headache and--

Arms hold her as she falls. She supposes she tripped over her dress. But no, no, there’s a sudden haze and there’s a hand at her forehead, and there’s a hand at her mouth, and then there’s nothing but black.

 

 

 

**AT DAY SIXTEEN**

She dreams about Kara, and is surprised at how beautiful she finds her. All golden curls and pink lips and a tight sweater. Fingers flying across a keyboard as she searches for the lost daughter of National City. “Lena. Where are you?,” Kara whispers, and Lena loves her name in that mouth, wants to hear it again. Kara’s hand searches for her phone, finds it, hits a button and Supergirl answers.

“I know,” Lena hears Supergirl say. “I’m working on it.”

And Kara’s chin hardens. “Work harder.”

Before she wakes up, she wonders why the curls in Kara’s hair look so familiar. 

 

 

 

**AT THREE MONTHS**

Mid-pilates routine, a guard interrupts. “He wants to see you,” she says. And the bars creak as a door on old hinges slides open. 

“He sees me everyday,” and Lena gestures to the camera. 

The guard gives her a small smile. “Indulge me.”

So, she collects herself. Stares at her bare feet and shrugs. 

The floors are cold but clean, and her hands stay at her sides, chin high. A door opens, and the guard ushers her inside, leaves. 

The visual is striking, memorable. _He is less than a man_ , she thinks immediately. Bald. Green. Glowing wires protruding from his skull, plugged into an apparatus behind him. Looks ageless. 

“She loves you,” is the first thing he says. “Did you know that?”

Lena flashes first on her mother’s face, before it’s all red and blue and golden hair in her mind’s eye. “Surprising,” she says, clasping her hands behind her back. Her heart is a drum inside her chest, but now is not the time to consider his words but to concentrate on her strength. She opens her mouth: “I’m hard to love.”

“I doubt that.” His lips curl into a smile. “A Luthor and a Super, it’s a compelling combination. I’ve run the calculations, and if I fail, she saves you. Every time.”

“I wouldn’t bet against her,” she says. 

 

 

 

**BEFORE**

Lena brings take out (and lots of potstickers) and a beautiful Bordeaux and they settle in for some girltalk mixed with shoptalk, with the plan for watching bad movies totally forgotten. It’s inevitable where the conversation turns, and Lena always admires that Kara will blush when Supergirl is mentioned. _A good friend_ , she thinks. 

“You like her,” Kara says suddenly, interrupting Lena’s commentary on the recent battle for National City. 

And Lena opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. Thinks. “Is that so terrible?” she finally says. “I certainly wouldn’t say such a thing at a family gathering, but it’s safe her to say--” and she truly tries to gauge Kara’s reaction (completely neutral) before she says: “Yes, yes, I do.”

Kara then lets out a giggle that she must have been holding back, sudden and somewhat nervous. “I won’t tell her,” she says so fast that it’s almost impossible to parse. “I promise.” 

Lena blushes then. “Thanks-- thank you.”

 

 

 

**AT DAY TWENTY-EIGHT**

She settles into bed and the lights dim, a kindness she appreciates. The bright red light of the camera reflects against the white wall, but she closes her eyes. And--

It’s an indulgence she hasn’t had since her capture. And lord knows it’s on candid camera, but her hand slips under her waistband and she finds herself wet and ready. This isn’t as she’s used to; this doesn’t have much thought behind it -- a candle, fresh sheets, soft music, as long as she wants -- and this isn’t the casual off work one on one time with a vibrator. It’s furtive, and she needs it, needs a release. Needs something that is hers, all hers. 

With simple movements, she brings herself to the brink, lingers there, and then rubs so hard that she sees blinding stars in her vision. She breathes in, breathes out. Rolls to the side. Falls asleep.

Dreams again of golden hair.

 

 

 

**AT THREE MONTHS AND THREE DAYS**

As a Luthor, chess is a game she’s mastered, but he’s hard to beat. A guard opens a bottle and pours her a glass of red wine and the aroma hits her hard. Her mouth waters, but she’s not about to do anything that limits her skills.

Three days ago, he ordered her to return, to entertain him with conversation. To improve his calculations.

 _He’s bored with this game_ , she thinks, she knows. And she smiles as she knocks over his queen.

“I’m impressed,” he says, and she knows he let her win. That’s fine, of course, every move he makes is another step to understanding him, understanding how to beat him.

 

 

 

**BEFORE**

“Queen to Rook 5,” he says, his back still turned against her. She moves the piece and ponders the board. He’s left her several options and thereby a myriad of routes to his queen. _Interesting_ , she thinks, and touches her knight before he interrupts:

“I’m going to die in this prison,” he says. “Between concrete and steel.” And that’s when he swivels around, looks at her in the eye. She’s moved again by how handsome Lex really is. “And you’ve become besties with _Supergirl_.” His eyebrows raise. “Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

She doesn’t even blink, only informs him of her next move and adjusts the piece on the board.

 

 

 

**LATER THAT VERY DAY**

Motionless, she sits in the car staring out the window. There’s something eating at her. An empty hole in her heart where something once was. Where a feeling should be. She closes her eyes and wonders if—

And her phone buzzes.

Kara: Brunch tomorrow at Hillside  
Kara: Don’t forget  
Kara: :)

And as her lips curve into a smile, she finds herself able to open the door, step out into the sun.

 

 

 

**AT JUST SHY OF THREE MONTHS**

They bring her a fresh set of books and old magazines. It’s with an indulgent greediness that she tears through them, looking at each; a new precious escape. Novels, non fiction, a journal about the latest innovations in tech. The magazines slip from her grip, sliding along the floor, and at the glimpse of gold and red and blue, she gasps. There’s the original Cat Grant exclusive interview with Supergirl. She grabs it, and reads it as if starved. Reads every word, and rereads them. 

Breathes in, breathes out. Looks to the left at the shining red light. Breathes again. Puts it down and picks up the journal calmly, and reads without registering a word. 

 

 

 

**AT DAY FIFTY-FIVE**

She remembers her father writing his name under her childhood cursive, an elegant L. “It’s more than a name,” he told her then. “It’s who you are.”

And she repeats the words quietly in the loneliness of her cell. 

 

 

 

**AT ABOUT FOUR MONTHS, GIVE OR TAKE**

Lena sits on the bed, watching the camera and its absence of a red light. It’s been two days since she’s been fed, or seen a living person. Something happened, _something_ , and she’s been left. Or forgotten. 

And for the first time in four months, Lena fears for her life. She still has running water, but at some point, the body dies without food.

She might go crazy first.

 

 

 

**NOT LONG AFTER THAT**

It’s a smash and grab job, it’s just that simple. A wall crashes down, the bars are ripped apart, a figure takes her up in her arms, and in moments, they’re in the air.

Lena blinks her eyes against the shock of sun and wind, and all she can see is pink lips and golden hair.

“Is he dead?” she says quietly, knowing Supergirl can hear.

“Not yet,” is the grim answer.

“I want a piece,” she says before passing out.

 

 

 

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

Lena pushes the button. Everyone shields their eyes as the device powers up and blasts a bright, blinding light at Brainiac. She’s adjusted it to fit his specifics, having watched him and the subtlety of his movements for a month. Knowing him a bit better now than the entire Justice League. 

She stares, doesn’t mind the pain in her eyes. Watches the blast hit him, envelop him. He’s watching her as it happens, gaze locked. And she smiles. “Enjoy the Phantom Zone,” she says. 

 

 

 

**DAY ONE**

“She’s going to find you,” Lena says to the camera. “And I’m going to destroy you.”

 

 

 

**AT FOUR MONTHS AND A FEW DAYS**

Lena sits on her balcony, staring at the skies. Hoping.

But it’s her doorbell that rings instead. Kara, with freshly baked cupcakes. Kara, with a fresh face and her hair up in a high ponytail. Kara, with a real smile and light in her eyes. 

It’s not-- she’s not--- but Lena smiles anyway. 

Three bites in, she reaches over and holds Kara’s hand, an intimacy with meaning. “Tell her I’m okay. Tell her thank you.” Her face screws up just a little. “He took me for a reason, he took me because of her. And I just. She needs to know I’m okay.”

And Kara pales, puts her fork down. “About that--” And she reaches for her glasses. 

 

 

 

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

Lena walks straight to the cabinet and pours two fingers. 

 

 

 

**SOME UNSPECIFIED TIME AFTER THAT**

All the noise in her head silences, her thoughts narrowing in on one riddle in her heart.

“He took me because of you. Because of what I mean to you. God knows what he saw in his _calculations_ , but there must be a truth it. Some kind of--” And she steels herself. “Do you--”

Kara raises a hand. “I honestly didn’t know until you were gone.”

“Know what?” Lena says all too quickly, her heart in her mouth.

And Kara squares her jaw, seems to hold herself as still as possible. And then, she _moves_.

 

 

 

**JUST A FEW SECONDS LATER**

The first time Lena kisses Kara is a moment after their first kiss - which was quick, almost chaste, and a surprise. This second kiss lingers, something long and luxurious. “I thought I lost you,” Kara whispers after a few aching moments. “And you never would have known, about me, and how I feel.” 

Lena breathes in and out steadily, feeling oddly grounded. “I always knew you would come for me. Never lost hope.”

She can feel Kara’s lips smile against her skin. “You’re no distressed damsel, are you?” And Lena feels Kara chuckle, something deep and resonate. “You’re a Luthor,” she says simply. 

“That’s right.” And with her fingers tangled in Kara’s hair, Lena loses herself in the embrace.

#


End file.
